Eulogy for Hope
The remembrance for Hope took place on Corvin Farm on a warm evening in early spring. An exhausted, drawn Ford took his place under a screen borrowed from the drive-in, on which a projector showed footage from the Clearwater Community College ad Ford and Hope had made together. Ford had edited this piece together in preparation, it was mostly moments of Hope in between takes, smiling at Ford, holding his hand, laughing at something everyone else around her failed to notice until she pointed it out. He wore a New Troy Construction t-shirt, paint-flecked jeans and some workboots. Those in the crowd who had been present for the closing of the Black Hole Portal recognized these were the exact clothes he wore that night, which was also the first night he and Hope declared their love for one another. “I wasn’t going to do this,” He said, his voice husky. He paused to clear his throat. “This, a remembrance, anything like this. I didn’t think Hope would like it and I sure didn’t want to do it. But then I thought some more and realized it’s not just about me, all of you deserve a moment to say goodbye to her too.” He looked out over the gathered crowd, a mix of gods and mortals and many in between. “I thought Hope and I would be together until the stars in the sky changed. I was wrong, but that’s how long I will remember her, how long I will keep her in my heart. “I was very lucky to have even that little time with her though, she inspired me in ways I couldn’t have imagined and I have no doubt many of you could say the same. “But enough about me. I’d just like to talk for a few moments about Hope… I’ll try not to chatterbox-” He paused with a weary smile as a couple of people smiled in return, however sadly. “Hope found wonder and beauty in everything. I felt that she brought wonder and beauty to everything but the end result, anyway, was infectious. Being around her, you felt like everything was going to be alright. Like the world had infinite potential and this was a wonderful time to be alive.” He paused to look over those gathered, looking frail and lost for the first time many of them had ever seen. Those who had seen him in the hospital after his first confrontation with Pecos Bill recognized a little of what they had seen in him then. He took a breath, nodded as he met some of their eyes. “I will try to keep that feeling in my heart. That’s how I’d like to remember Hope. I would ask those of you that knew her to do the same. I think Hope infected all of us to some degree or other with her boundless joy and optimism. I will try and I ask you all to try stay infected forever.” He smiled at his own odd wording, closed his eyes for just a second and then nodded. “If Hope were here, she’d be tugging on my shirt around now to pull me towards something new and beautiful, bored with all this sadness. I think that’s enough sad talk for tonight, I ask you all, no I beg you, go now and find or rediscover something beautiful, let that be your gift to her.” He was crying by now, tears flowing freely down his face. Usually unembarrassed to cry in public, he turned his face from the crowd now, as though he had shared as much of his grief as he could and the rest was private. With a wave, he stepped down from the little makeshift podium and started walking away. That was the last anyone saw of him in Clearwater until the beginning of the new academic year in the fall. Back to Hope